Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Coran stood in place, listening as the men continued to stalk towards Genevieve. The man in front of him seemed to watch him as though he were a lion ready to pounce, the blade pressed against his throat tight as could be without drawing blood.

A normal man would be concerned.

"Don't lie you bitch!"​

As Genevieve was backed into a corner the man suddenly lashed out. His hand moved quick as a viper, slapping across the Fae's face.

The moment the blow landed Coran's eyes tightened. Fingers furled into fists, and he moved to take half a step forward. The man in front of him pressed the blade forward, cutting across Coran's throat as he threatened him with a harsh tone.

"Don't move, or it'll be worse for her. You have no idea what she is."​

The demon looked at the man. "You are making a mistake."

His voice was even. Cold.

A part of him wanted to kill these men, eviscerate them. Yet the curiosity in his chest overtook that temptation. He wanted to see what was happening, why.
 
The slap collided with Genevieve's cheek and she hissed as the iron of the mans ring seared into her usually flawless skin. Her hand came up to cover her cheek at the same time her glamour dissolved. She cursed something in her native tongue as her gold eyes glared at the intruders.

"What do you want? I haven't done anything," she said calmly now. She would enjoy making these men kill themselves.

Their attention was so entirely on her that they did not even seem to notice that the slice on Coran's neck did nothing to stop him from talking or moving.
 
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"We know what you are."​

The man in front hissed, the words coming just as Genevieve's glamour began to flicker. He sneered, and then reached to grab her without even a second thought. The manacles on his belt flew free, and one of the cuffs slapped around the Fae's wrist.

"You're coming with us."​

His voice was cruel, hard.

"Your Ki-"​

There was a loud snap that echoed out in the room. One of the men turned his head to see Coran standing over their friend, his head tilting as he looked at the now dead man. "Take those off her."

He said with a gesture. "You're touching my-"

Before he could finish one of the other men suddenly lurched forward. The Iron sword in his hand stabbed, burying itself in the Demon's chest.
 
The manacle wrapped itself around Genevieve's wrist and she cried out. The surface area of the iron against her wrist was much more than the ring had been. She could feel the iron burning into her skin as she stood there helplessly. Everything about her was weakened now...even her magic.

The fae did kick out in the moment of distraction and she connected with one of the men's knees. She heard the crunch as he howled and stumbled forward, knocking her over to the ground as he fell too. His face contorted at the pain from his shattered knee cap.

It all happened so fast that by the time she looked up to see the sword sticking out of Coran's chest. "Coran!" She yelled as she tried to struggle to her feet. Not being able to use her arms and the searing pain from the iron manacles making it impossible.
 
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The man in front of Genevieve, his knee-cap all but smashed seemed to lurch forward and on top of the Fae.

Pain still lanced through him, but it didn't seem to matter through his rage. A hand snapped at the other cuff that was dangling from Genevieve's wrist. He pulled her closer to himself with a hard yank, dragging her across the floor.

An iron blade came to her throat, flickering in place.

"STAY QUIET YOU FILTHY BITCH!"​

The words rang in the massive room, echoing and bouncing off the walls as the other remaining hunter smirked at Coran.

An expression that slowly began to fade as he noted the Demon was still standing, and no blood fell from his wound. Slowly Coran looked down at the sword buried in his chest, eyebrow raising in interest as he gazed back up towards his attacker.

"I...her...her spell should be broken...you should..."​

"No spell." Coran said as he reached up and grabbed the man's wrist. Holding him in place with a vice like grip. "But I can show you one if you like."

His other hand reached up, fingers snapped, and then suddenly the man began to scream as black flames encapsulated his body.
 
Genevieve hissed again as the knife came to her throat. Just the touch of the iron on her skin burned her. She tried to move but the man was strong and bigger. She was practically laying on her as she tried to kick him off. He was fighting to get the second iron cuff locked around her list.

The screaming man on fire drew Genevieve's attackers attention to him. His distraction allowed her to wiggle some and knee him in the stomach. She needed to get him off of her but he wasn't budging.

"Coran, a little help!"
 
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Coran stepped over the smoldering corpse that now lay in front of him, the blade still buried deep within his chest.

The third man lay half crumpled atop Genevieve's figure. His hands curled over her stomach as he tried to lash out against her once more. It did not take long for the Demon to reach him fingers digging into the scruff of her neck. "Next time."

He breathed against the man's flesh as he held him like a child.

"You should think." Where his breath touched the other man's throat skin seemed to bubble. "Before touching another man's property."

A scream echoed from the man's lips, the sound carrying through the manor loud enough to curdle blood.

The very soul burning from his body.
 
"You should think before touching another man's property."

While Genevieve appreciated the assist with the last attacker, she did not appreciate being called property. "Coran, get this shackle off of me now," she growled at the Demon.

It seemed the the iron had not just burned her in multiple spots, the iron had burned away his compulsion as well and she was disgusted with herself. She had been following him around like a puppy for days and she did not even try to stop it.

Genevieve was not going to confront him until after he had freed her from the fucking iron though. It was really burning!
 
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The crumpled corpse of the Fae hunter fell to the ground with a thud. His face a mask of utter and absolute horror. Fingers were curled in on themselves, his eyes hollow and sunken, his body a shriveled mass of what it once was.

Coran peered at him for a moment, then slowly looked to Genevieve.

She lay half sprawled on the floor, those strange iron manacles still pinned around her wrists. A frown pulled at his lips for a moment, the tone of her voice lingering in his ears. "That sounded rather demanding."

The Demon said as he stepped forward.

"Too demanding." He mused, his boot crunching the corpse beneath him as he stepped towards Genevieve. "Perhaps mortality offered some clarity, my dear?"

Coran asked, peering down at her.
 
Genevieve narrowed her eyes. He already knew that she was no longer under his spell. She growled as the shackle continued to burn her.

"The iron seemed to have cleared whatever compulsion you had on me, Coran!" She hissed out at him.

The fae managed to sit up and then stand. She held out her arm in his direction.

"Please..." She said with false sweetness.
 
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"One would think that Queen of yours would have taught you Humility by now." Coran said, his featured darkening as he glanced down at the Fae.

There was no anger in his eyes, not rage, but a ration of patience was all that remained.

She was delicious, and he would have feasted upon her with all depravity until the end of time. But one could only take so much. Patience was not the mark of demons, and most certainly not one bound by Greed and Avarice. "But."

Like a viper Coran reached out.

He snatched the shackle hanging off her hand, dragging her up and off the floor with a quick jerk. "Maybe that's something I'll have to teach you."

Now that he had a hint as to how.
 
Genevieve cried out as Coran pulled the shackle and the iron burn deeper into her skin. There was genuine pain her eyes as she pleaded silently with him. The was the Demon that she had first met and wanted to kill.

"Coran, it is burning me...please!" The fae begged for him to remove the iron.

She could not help that whatever he had done to her had worn off. She could not help that she really wanted to kill him again.

"You can do whatever you want to me but please take this off!" There was definitely a smell of burnt flesh in the room as her skin continued to sizzle under the onslaught of the iron.
 
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The scent of burnt flesh drifted to his nose, a wicked smile drawing over his lips. "No."

He told her, amusement flickering over his voice.

"No I don't think I will." Slowly the Demon looked around at the dead men, peering at the manacles and weapons that still decorated their torsos. He mused for a moment, and then as though she were a doll pulled her along behind him.

Genevieve would feel herself dragged forward, drawn after him as he stepped towards one of the corpses. "I thought I was good to you."

He mused out loud.

"Kind." His tongue clicked. "Even caring."

Coran didn't look back as he walked to one of the corpses, plucking one of the iron blades from the Hunter's belt. "But it seems you're still ready to play the ungrateful brat."
 
Genevieve was pulled along as the iron continue to torture her. "Please, Coran. I am sorry. You are right, I am grateful and you are kind to me. Please stop this."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head in fear as he pulled one of the blades from the dead man's belt. "I will behave, Coran. I promise. I will do whatever you ask. I will obey you!"

Genevieve was terrified now. What was he going to do? She was pretty sure that killing her was on the list of acceptable punishments.

"Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee," she begged.
 
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One hand clutched the Manacles, the other the Iron dagger. He seemed to utterly ignore Genevie's pleading cries, looking at the small knife. His eyes focused almost completely on the blade, and then suddenly the metal began to shift.

"Will you?" Coran mused as the dagger almost seemed to melt.

The iron fell into the Demons hand as though it were made of water, tumbling into his palm. It settled there for a moment, shaping, shifting it's shape into a strange symbol. Then suddenly flickered, as if something had coated the iron itself. "Let's make sure of that, shall we?"

As Coran spoke, the metal suddenly jumped from his hand.

It slithered like a snake, pressing into Genevieve's skin and slipping beneath her flesh. Taking the form of a strange Tattoo.
 
Genevieve watched in horror as the iron melted. This could not be good. She momentarily forgot about the pain from the iron cuff. Before she could think too much further about what he was doing, the iron symbol was becoming one with her arm.

It didn't add any extra pain and Genevieve just looked up at Coran with the expression of pain and sadness.

"What did you do?" She asked slowly. The first time she didn't seem to want to kill him.

"Please, Coran, I will do whatever you want me to do. I just cannot deal with the burning anymore." She tried to smile but it was just a grimace.
 
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"I created..." Coran trailed off, looking at the burning for a moment before before he snapped his fingers.

The manacles around her wrists seemed to shift, and then burst into those odd black flames. Within seconds they burnt away from her skin, becoming little more than dust and disappearing all together within the demons hands.

In an instant Genevieve would tumble to the ground, released from the pain of the Iron around her wrist. "Insurance."

He finished finally, looking down at her.

"That mark is iron." Coran said, his voice cold. None of that sweetness present. "Protect only by my seal."

His hand flickered. "Taken away, and it will drive to your heart."
 
Genevieve let out a long breath of relief when the manacle burst into flames. As soon as it disappeared, she looked at her poor wrists. They would take a while to heal and she would need to wrap them to avoid infection while they took their sweet time.

Her eyes traveled back to Coran when he said the insurance. Of course, he would create something to control her now that he knew her weakness.

The thought that he could drive the iron mark into her heart at any moment was enough to quail her. She was his and it was not in the sweet, loving way she had been before those men had burst in. He was effectively her owner now. A fae owned by a demon. It was disgusting.

"Fine," Genevieve said with only a hint of malice in her voice now. "What do you want to do now, Coran?" She was trying so hard to not growl out the words at him.
 
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Coran stood for a moment, the face of his new body an unreadable mask. Silence seemed to rein within the manor's foyer.

The demon seemed to think, consider. Fingers flickered as he looked down at Genevieve, his eyes wandering to the mark. "Nothing's changed."

He said simply.

"One of the Kin is here." Slowly he turned away from Genevieve, clearly expecting for her to get up and follow up. "I have to find him."

Coran's voice was less of that melodic song. There was a bite to it now. "And you'll be useful still."
 
Genevieve did growl now as she followed Coran from the foyer. She looked like a petulant child who had been told no and was now pouting while following the parent who had just scolded her.

"Can you just do whatever you did before so I don't have to sit here and despise you?" The Fae asked in her sweetest voice.

She may have been disgusted with how she acted but she had been happy with him. Happy with regrettable memories was better than wanting to murder him every second of the day.

"And how will I be useful, Coran?"
 
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Coran paused for a brief second, considering for a moment before he slowly turned back. He looked Genevieve up and down.

The question hung in the air unanswered.

His head cocked to the side for a brief moment, eyes flickering up and down Genevieve's form. Lips thinned and he reached into his cloak. From within a small knife flickered out, something the nobleman had hidden on himself.

Then without a word Coran extended his hand. The blade flickered over his open palm, drawing a thick line of black crimson. It dripped onto the floor in steady beats, forming a pool that seemed as dark as Midnight, as far as the Abyss. "There."

He motioned with his fingers, offering.
 
Genevieve felt like she was going to throw up all of a sudden. "I will pass. Forget I said anything. That is disgusting," she sneered at him as she stepped around him to continue on in the direction they had been heading. She was curious how he had tricked her before because even under the influence, she would not have willingly drank his blood.

"I need something to clean and wrap my wrists," Genevieve informed the Demon.

She did not particularly care what he was going to do or say right now. She was very torn on how far she was willing to push him now that her life sat in his hands.
 
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Coran remained standing for a moment as Genevieve slipped past him. A small flicker of a smile touched his lips, eyes glancing down at the blood which had pooled upon the floor.

Oddly, it seemed to move. A shimmer running over the dark pool. Then slowly it began to spread across the ground. It sunk into the stone, turning it a brackish black crimson. A taint upon the rocks themselves as they corroded and aged a thousand years within mere seconds. The demon smiled, and then turned around to follow after Genevieve.

As he stepped after her he leaned down, tearing a strip of cloth away from one of the fae hunters. It was nothing that had touched the iron, no braid of metal that would harm her. A simple strip of cotton from the men who had brought her back to her nightmare. "Here."

The demon said as he headed for the half broken front doors.
 
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"Thank you," Genevieve said with genuine appreciation. It would probably only last a moment though. He would do or say something that would remind her that he was essentially her owner. Disgusting!

The fae started to wrap one wrist and used her teeth to tighten the knot. She repeated the process with her other wrist. The strips would do for now. She would need to clean and wrap them better later but at least these would keep anything new from getting in the wounds.

Coran headed towards the front doors and she followed in silence. She would ask him another question but then she would want to punch him again.
 
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As they made their way outside the Manor House the weather began to change.

A pleasant and cheery day turned dark and gloomy. Clouds had all but taken over the sky, dark and seeming to crowd out even the distant mountains. Sparks of lightning could be seen in the distance, flickering down onto the land as patters of rain began to fall.

The storm seemed to coincide with the creak of the old gate Genevieve and Coran had passed through earlier. His eyes flickered towards it, and beyond he could see dozens upon dozens of villagers. All of them stood and stared, watching in utter silence. Their eyes seemed fixed.on the demon, an odd haze hanging over their sight.

Coran's head slowly cocked to the side.

Then suddenly the crowd all began to speak at once. Their voices joined into a cacophony if chaos, all sounding in utter confusion. They were a rabble, muttering, screaming, all of them speaking as though they knew not what they were trying to say. Their voices joined, synced, and then suddenly a bolt of lighting arched down from the sky.

It lashed onto the courtyard just before Coran and Genevieve, exploding through rock and earth with a powerful lash.
 
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